From the Fictional Account of Mr James Wilson
by Oldmovie
Summary: A twist on the House md story. Turned it into a Sherlock Homes style mystery! This is just an idea, I don't know if I will continue through with it.


**_Throughout the many years of working together, never have I enjoyed such a case that had been brought to our attention at 221 Princeton Street as the one Dr. Gregory House and I encountered, as the case below. Therefore I have taken it upon myself to record, in the best of my ability, all of the events that presented themselves to us while working on the case._**_  
_**_Mr. James Wilson_**_  
_  
I sat across from House, staring at him dubiously, "How could you possibly know that?" I questioned.

House leant forward, a smirk settling familiarly onto his face, "I always know Wilson, she _will_ be here any moment now, just have some patience my friend." I was irritated at his arrogance, but instead of pushing the matter further I leant back in my chair silent, letting Brenda, the maid, clean my breakfast things from their place on the table while I waited for the inevitable knock at the door.

* * *

House had been called out very late last night to examine the corpse of a man the police believed to have been the victim of foul play. He got these cases often enough but never the less he always was anxious to accept them, unlike many of his other medical cases. Maybe it was the thrill of solving a riddle or maybe the potential to learn something more about human nature inspired him to do it, but whatever the inspiration was, House went almost out of his way to attain cases such as these.

He had told me the mood of scene upon which he arrived did not indicate that the presence of death was near. There was no full moon with a wolf howling nor a desolate house with a graveyard in the front. Instead it was a clear night, with a warm breeze that tickled House's face. He remarked that he had smiled at the serenity that the house seemed to give off. Upon approaching the front door to the house, a young lieutenant had refused him permission to go up. House thought that it might have had to do with his appearance. You see, House does not like the conventions of gentleman's attire. He tells me the clothes are stiff and the neckties extremely uncomfortable. So House goes around in middle class clothing, only a waistcoat to hint at his position in society. Not only that but House refuses to shave, he tells me that his morning shadow seems to intoxicate the ladies and without it they wouldn't know who he was. But I haven't seen him with a lady in a long time so I had only laughed when I heard the outrageous statement. After explaining that he was the physician who was called, the young lieutenant had immediately apologized and led House upstairs to where the body lay.

The body was located in the middle of the room, knees bent beneath him and arms sprawled out in a position that looked like he was breaking his fall. His face was distorted and squashed with a hint of disgust that seemed to come from the eyes. He was a tall man, maybe 6 feet or so, muscular with strong shoulders. He had short raven black hair that shimmered in the light, and his piercing blue eyes stared upwards in a trance that was a little unsettling, frozen there forever by death. House told me he had also noticed tiny puddles of blood that rested quite near the gentleman's head. What had puzzled House was the puddles of blood did not seem to have a source. No injury was on the head that could have produced the blood, in fact House had said that the body, except for the fact it was dead, seemed to be in a perfectly good condition, no signs of injury anywhere. Without saying anything to anyone, House had removed a vial from his waistcoat pocket and collected a sample of the blood that lay on the floor. After putting a stopper back onto the vial, House had returned the vial to his waistcoat pocket and began his examination of the body.

After concluding his examination, House had stood up from the body and wiped his hands clean with a wet towel a police officer was offering to him. The police constable in charge had noticed House was finished and made his way over with a hand outstretched, but had re-coiled it after looking once more at the corpse. This was the conversation that followed:

"So Doc, what do yah make of it?" The constable asked.

"It's most certainly murder constable," House replied and was startled by the cry of a woman he had not noticed who was standing in a corner and apparently had been watching everything. He had noticed she had now huddled against the young lieutenant from before, who was exhibiting a slightly comical look of utter terror on his face.

"Murder eh? Well that's what I thought, only my superiors wanted to make sure to cover their asses," the constable said ignoring the sobbing woman, spitting a bit of tobacco juice out of his mouth. "What did the fella in?"

House told me he could not take his eyes off the woman who was now using the young lieutenant as a human handkerchief, she interested him. "Well I's think it was poison that done him in gov'nor." House answered doing his best to imitate the constable's cockney accent but immediately stopped when he noticed the officer violent glare. "We won't know for sure until the autopsy, but that's my medical opinion for now."

"Well since its murder, how long do you think he's been dead?" The constable asked with a slightly gruffer tone to his voice now.

"He's been dead for about 2-3 hours, that's as close as I can pin it," House said hoping to appease the angry constable. House told me at just that moment he had looked over the constable's shoulder and noticed that the lieutenant was escorting the now calm woman from the room. "If that's all you need constable, I'd like to go home now."

A grunt was all House had got in reply and he took it as freedom to go. He had raced out of the room, hoping to catch the woman before she left.

House said he had found her sitting by the well in the back garden. She was playing with the water with her fingers, now calm, but tear stains on her cheeks hinted to the episode before. As he approached her, her blue eyes had lifted and met his own for a moment before she cast them back down to the ripples her fingers were creating. "I have already heard the prognosis doctor, there is no need to see me, you may leave." Came her quite plea, her voice wavered a bit but her own dignity seemed to hold it intact.

House had nodded, but had continued to approach her, "My name is Dr. Gregory House," he reached into his waistcoat pocket for the second time this evening to produce a white business card. "If you are ever in need of my services ma'am, I shall be happy to accommodate such a lovely lady as you Miss..." and he trailed off waiting for a name. But none ever came; instead he told me she had not even lifted her eyes from the water. House guessed she was still in a state of shock from the news she had received, he was not sure she had even heard him. So he had passed her silently and placed the card next to her hands on the well, she had lifted her eyes puzzled and he had winked. Then before she could have replied, House said he had turned his back and left but could still feel the glare of the woman piercing into his skin.

* * *

And that is how we came to our breakfast conversation. I sat there, still waiting, drumming my fingers on the table. I looked over to House who had now begun to read the morning paper and was smoking some mysterious white powder, the identity of it which he refused to disclose, in his pipe. He must have felt my gaze because he looked up from the paper, took his pipe out of his mouth and said to me," Wilson you really need to find a hobby, the constant eyes boring into my skull is very flattering I admit, but very ungentlemanly like, people might say you are a mandrake." House fake scolded.

I sighed and got up from the table and approached the bookshelf with the intent on finding something to read when there was a sudden knocking at the door. House and I exchanged looks while Brenda went to answer the door. "There is a Miss Lisa Cuddy here to see you Dr. House. She says it's about the card you gave her last night." Brenda stated, "Should I let her in?"

"Yes, yes, yes, show her into the sitting room Brenda; tell her I shall be there in a moment." House said in a hurried command with a hint of excitement to his voice. He looked over to me and called out, "Wilson will you pass me that cane behind you with the silver handle. Yes it seems I injured my leg on my little expedition last night and I am in need of a tad more support this morning because of it."

I obliged and tossed him the cane, I had a question upon my lips, but before I could utter a word House had answered it for me, "Dear God Wilson don't give me such a pathetic look, of course you are permitted to sit in on my meeting with Miss _Cuddy_." He said her name slightly slower than the rest of the sentence, seeming to savor the sound of it upon his lips.

We found Miss Lisa Cuddy sitting upright in the chair by the window, hands folded across her lap with a handkerchief hidden in the sleeve for easy access. She was dressed in mourning, a black veil draped across her face and a black flowing dress that seemed to flatter her womanly figure very nicely. When we entered the room, she lifted the veil from her face and greeted House.

"Thank you Dr. House for seeing me," She turned her head to me and I saw a puzzled look come into her eyes. House limped towards the chair opposite her and slowly lowered himself into to it. He winced slightly as moved his injured leg into a more comfortable position and then propped his cane up next to the chair. He then took more of the mysterious white powder from his waistcoat pocket and began mashing it up with a letter opener.

"It is my pleasure; this is Mr. James Wilson a long term friend and admirer of mine." House said lazily pointing a finger in my direction as he loaded his pipe with the white powder. I hastily sat down in the chair next to House and exchanged my own greetings with Miss Cuddy.

"You must ignore my friend I warn you he can be a little sour in the mornings. It is a pleasure to meet you, may I offer my condolences for your loss," I stated which got me a frown from House.

"Thank you, Charles was a good brother to me," She said casting her blue eyes down from me in an attempt to hide the tears that were forming.

"I'm sure that..." I began but House removed his pipe from his mouth and cut me off before I could finish.

"Enough with the formalities, your grief does not interest me Cuddy. May I call you that? What interests me Cuddy is your purpose here." House clarified.

Cuddy threw House a glare; I could see she was not used to such impertinence. Her blue eyes blazed into his and for a moment they sat there staring at each other, almost fighting a battle with their icy blue glare. It was only an awkward cough from me that broke the spell and caused Cuddy to push back loose black curls from her bun behind her ear and confess.

"Dr. House I am in need of your assistance. I do not trust the police will do justice with my brother's case. I do not believe they will be successful in discovering the murderer of my brother. I have heard that you sometimes dabble in the field of private detection, and I have heard you have a knack for it. I have come here to ask that you find out the identity of the cad that killed my brother."


End file.
